Chapter 7 - Green is an All-knowing Color
"God, I can't stand bright light, especially when my head hurts."
He rolled over or tried to.
"What's this?"
His head was fastened to some kind of red foam brace. He tried to reach up to his face, but found his arms also fastened down, along with his legs.
"Being incapacitated is so not in my nature." He pulled at the bonds on his right arm testing the material. "Hmm…"
Someone's hand grabbed his arm stopping his movements and a man's face appeared in his vision. Thankfully blocking the light, but skewing his features in shadow.
"Sir. Calm down. You are in safe hands." The man then looked up at someone outside his view. "What's his name?" The man nodded at the answer. "Mr. Lassiter, can you hear me?"
"What kind of stupid question is that?" He thought, but answered with a yes.
"Do you know today's date?"
He answered the question 'with flying colors.'
"Do you know where you are?"
"Of course I know where I am." He looked around his restricted view. "Wait…I don't know where I am or why I'm even here." He frowned.
The man took his expression as a 'No'.
"Mr. Lassiter, you are in an ambulance. You have a mild concussion, some contusions, and a wound on both your wrists. We've treated what we could. The brace and straps are just to make sure you don't further injure yourself, if you happen to have any hidden injuries. We haven't left the scene yet because you were too unstable for transport, and we're actually surprise you are now awake and coherent. I know you're uncomfortable, but hold on for a few minutes while we get the go-ahead to leave."
The man then left his vision and he felt the vehicle rock as he exited.
He sighed.
Ambulances lead to the hospital and he knew he couldn't go there now, not in this condition.
He pulled at the right strap again. It didn't give.
"I'm not even supposed to be here. Unless… Something must've happened."
He tugged again a little more fiercely. The strap gave, but didn't let go. He shook his hand and it fell away. Quickly, he undid the straps across his shoulders, his stomach, and his left arm. He sat up. No one was standing by the open doors. He reached down to undo the leg straps and noticed the familiar red tinge on his hands.
"Carlton, what did you get yourself into?"
Not expecting an answer, he undid the leg straps and the weird head brace. As he stood up, his head swooned a little, but the feeling quickly left.
He peeked out the vehicle. Uniformed people were milling around. Some were in small groups, but lucky for him no one seemed to be facing his way. He stepped out and quickly went to the side of the ambulance facing away from the majority of the crowd.
"Now, how to leave without anyone spotting me?" He spotted his car parked a few feet away from the front of the ambulance. His suit jacket was missing, but fortunately his keys were in his pants' pocket, along with a small notepad. It would be easy to just take the car, but he knew taking the car would be the worst option for someone in his predicament.
His eyes scanned the area and spotted the only safe exit, an entrance to a dark alley by his car. He knew enough of the area to travel back home on foot.
"That's my ticket. I'll be home in no time, and he can deal with this mess, that he made, in the morning." He left the cover of the vehicle.
His attention was so focused on getting to the darkness of that alley, he didn't notice the person calling his name until they ran up to him and stood right in his way.
He stopped, frowning at himself for not looking back at the warehouse before leaving his cover. Settling into an impassively stance, he looked at her.
"Carlton, what are you doing walking around?" The woman asked with concern and a little bit of fire in her eyes.
He didn't answer; instead he glanced at the alley.
She saw him looking away and followed his line of sight. "Don't you dare think of driving, not in your condition. You are going back to the paramedics, if I have to drag you back there." She reached to grab his arm and he stepped away.
"No hospitals." He stated bluntly.
She rolled her eyes. "Sometimes you are such a baby. You need to get better."
He jumped away when she tried to grab him again.
She glared and continued saying, "So I can put you back in there for worrying me."
"You should listen to her, Lassie. You don't look so good." Someone voiced rather mockingly behind him.
He looked back and his frown deepened when he realized who was making his way toward them. The pest and his friend walked over and took a spot next to the woman.
This was exactly why he didn't want to be spotted.
"I don't know these people as personable as he does. I can't even remember their names."
But he knew how annoying one of them could be…
He gave the group a quick look over before saying with a glare, "Now that he is here, I'll take my leave," And as he went between her and the new arrivals, he grabbed the shoulder of the pain-in-the-ass. "And do not think about following me this time." He growled giving a quick squeeze.
He enjoyed the reaction he got: the whimpering cry.
"Bastard." He heard the pest say through gritted teeth.
Smirking, he walked past them.
And then his smirk fell away when he realized he hadn't squeezed that hard to get that kind of pained reaction. He paused in step and looked at his hand. Fresh blood peppered his palm and he started to notice an odd smell overpowering the usual odor of wood and metal in the area. Wondering, he couldn't help himself from inhaling deeply. A familiar feeling passed through him and his gums started to tingle.
He cursed fully taking notice of the faint coppery taste in his mouth, along with the sight of the contrasting appearances of the little group.
"I hope what I'm thinking didn't happen." He noted still looking at his hand.
Someone pushed him and he looked up at the woman, grateful because he was just about to lick his hand.
"Why did you do that?" She asked with deep fire in her eyes. "You knew he was injured right there."
He shook his head and turned away from her heading back to the injured man.
He pushed the friend away and grabbed the annoying man's jaw, stopping whatever snide remark was about to come out of his mouth. The beginnings of a bruise around the man's neck hadn't entirely escaped him, but that wasn't important. He moved the man's head to the left, pulled down the shirt on his right shoulder, and pulled the bloody bandage off. It revealed a stitched, half-circle bloody wound. He cursed again and let him go.
"The situation just got worse."
He stepped back. The sight of the wound had intensified the feeling.
Closing his eyes, he took a couple of deep breaths to steady himself. The feeling passed, but it sat waiting on the edge.
"What was that for?" The man stepped up glaring. "If you wanted to look at your handiwork, you could've just asked."
His eyes flicked open landing on the injured man.
"You, stupid puppy." He growled lowly. He saw the person's eyes widen at the comment.
"What's wrong?"
He turned to the woman. "It's complicated and none of your concern." He stated blankly. "I will deal with the matter."
Anger swelled in her eyes.
"This is none of my concern!? None of my concern! I was knocked unconscious and tied to a chair while they did God knows what to you! When I finally find you, you're cover in blood and attacking Shawn! That is a cause for my concern and from your expression there's more happening than we think. Tell us what's going on. We are here to help."
"Help?" He scoffed, looking up at the stars and then back at the woman. "Helping makes it worse." He spat as a glimpse of a pale face with long, dark hair passed through his mind. "It always makes it worse, and from what I can see, he helped big time and made himself a target."
"A target? Of what?" She asked.
Shaking his head, he turned and walked away from them. The woman grabbed his arm.
"Let me go."
"Not until you tell me what's going on."
"Can't, so let go."
She held on.
"This is going nowhere." He thought before growling and yanking his arm away. "Woman, just go back to your house and focus on taking care of your cats. You and your little group will only get in the way."
Her eyes were a blazed and he didn't realize she slapped him until he noticed he was looking back at the ambulance. Two shocked paramedics stood there beside their vehicle.
Somewhere inside he felt hurt. Not because of the slapped, but because of what flew out of his mouth.
He looked back at her; his eyes were blank.
However, in her eyes, anger covered the hidden tears that were welling and threatening to fall.
The puppy and his friend moved to stand protectively in front of her; their expression reflecting the anger in hers.
"Lassie that was harsh, even for your standard."
The two paramedics ran over and stood protectively around him, reprimanding the woman for her actions.
"Why would you do that? Mr. Lassiter's condition is severe. He doesn't know what he's doing." He heard one of them say.
The other one called his name and went to grab his arm. He yanked away from the contact.
"No hospitals." He glared at the paramedic.
He looked back at the woman before his face settled into a neutral expression and he walked away, despite the protest of the people around.
"What happened to you?" He heard whispered behind him.
He almost paused, but decided to continue on, disappearing into the alley.
He understood the feeling she was going through, the mental turmoil of trying to understand something that went against all logic.
Back then he hadn't a clue what was going on. If someone hadn't stopped his downward spiral, then red would have literally flooded the streets. A part of him wanted to tell her everything and save her from a mental spiral of her own, but he couldn't. It wasn't his decision.
Hours later, he made it home in one piece.
An undercover car was sitting outside his house, so he entered through the back.
"I hope that detour will ease everything until tomorrow night."
Careful not to leave tracks or turn on any lights, he walked in making a beeline to his bedroom. Grabbing some pajamas, he shut himself in the bathroom and made his way over to turn on the shower. While the water ran, his eyes met with the mirror and he couldn't help, but noted his wild, dirty appearance. Red covered him from head to toe and he bit his tongue to stop himself from punching the mirror.
"Leo and his group are going pay for opening a door that was supposed to be kept closed."
He looked away and got undress before stepping into the shower. Once he saw that all the red and dirt was gone, he turned off the water and stepped out wrapping a towel around himself to dry off.
He got dress and his eyes landed on his ruin clothes on the floor.
"Now, what should I to do with these?"
The last ruin pair ended up in a trash bag at the bottom of his outside trash can.
"He won't miss them anyway."
He shrugged and picked up the clothes. Items clattered out of its pockets.
He looked down. Keys and a small black notebook lay on the floor.
Artifacts of a life he had no connection with.
He frowned.
With being both the Iron Gate and its keeper, he was constantly tip-toeing and cleaning up, making sure the balance was kept.
But with what happened tonight, that delicate balance was being pushed and its collapse would bring down more than just the building. It would completely demolish the surrounding area.
"Unless…" He put a finger to his mouth, thinking.
"I control the direction of where the balance sways… by pushing it myself."
He knew it was a risk, but something had to be sacrificed for lives to be saved.
And he knew Leo's way was going to end in a repeat of what happened years ago plus a trip to jail, if he didn't end up fatally shot.
"Just maybe I can guide it toward a less destructive ending."
Dropping the clothes, he took the notebook.
Opening it, he scribbled a quick message with the small pen attached and closed it, with a slight smile.
"Hopefully this will help ease the transition."
Author Note: Don't be afraid to give me a little feedback. I do write for reaction... And I just might share some insight on what's going on in the chapter.
